THE SAME CONTINUED <br />We planted love, and lo it bred a brood <br />Of lusts and vanities and senseless joys. <br />We planted love, and you have gathered food <br />Of every bitter herb which fills and cloys. <br />Your meat is loud excitement and mad noise, <br />Your wine the unblest ambition of command <br />O'er hearts of men, of dotards, idiots, boys. <br />These are the playthings fitted to your hand, <br />These are your happiness. You weep no more, <br />But I must weep. My Heaven has been defiled. <br />My sin has found me out and smites me sore, <br />And folly, justified of her own child, <br />Rules all the empire where love reigned of yore, <br />Folly red--cheeked but rotten to the core.<br /><br />Wilfrid Scawen Blunt<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-love-sonnets-of-proteus-part-ii-to-juliet-li/
